


certain liberties

by smithens



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Culture Shock, During Canon, Farce, Humor, Jazz Age, M/M, New York City, Prohibition, Season/Series 04, Sexual Tension, Slow To Update, Thomas Barrow Having Some Of The Best Sex Of His Life, Transatlantic Crossings, Valeting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-01-27 02:17:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21384457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithens/pseuds/smithens
Summary: At his daughter's insistence and out of a lingering sense of obligation, Robert Crawley gives Thomas Barrow more than a modicum of independence during the trip to New York.It goes about as ought to have been expected.
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Crossover Male Character(s), Thomas Barrow/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 68





	certain liberties

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to everyone who liked [this post i made on tumblr.com](https://combeferre.tumblr.com/post/188936554471/).  
(1) everything about this fic is going to be tongue-in-cheek. everything. it is intended to be absolutely off the rails and fuckwild in most everything but the characterisation of thomas barrow. please suspend disbelief where required.  
(2) this is going to update very infrequently because i have written about 70k words of downton abbey fanfic since binge watching the show in a week in september and i do, unfortunately, have other things to do with my life, such as laundry, and homework, and meal prep.  
(3) i highly doubt i'll need to tack in cautionary content notes for anything in here besides my usual (war & homophobia, though i'd like to keep both of those to a minimum for the duration) and heads-ups about sexual activities (which will be more on the mature side than explicit), but this is now just my practise for da fic because of all of the things that can come up and i don't care to have a monster list of tags.  
(4) thanks for reading!

He raps at the cabin door and opens it before the "yes?" from inside is finished.

"Barrow."

In a manner most unlike him, Barrow scrambles to stand and begins to stammer an apology, gestures toward the pile of shirts he was previously engaged in appraising. He has a needle and thread in one hand.

"No, no, do continue — you may be seated."

He does wish to have a shirt with proper fastenings, and if Barrow has a tendency for seasickness, it would be better for all involved that he remain in his chair.

But perhaps that is putting his own problems unto his servant.

Barrow looks mildly perturbed at these words, but he says merely, "very well, your Lordship," sits down once more, and then ties off the stitches of one button before threading the needle again for the next.

He finds he does not entirely know what to say.

The truth is, he should be far more comfortable with Barrow standing unoccupied, as is fitting, for any other discussion. For this, however, he finds he does not wish to look him in the face. His concentration upon his task does him credit, and Robert has never doubted that the man is capable of doing more than one thing at once.

It has been a source of misfortune, at times, that he can, but Barrow has had his own fair share of misfortune in recent years, and his daughter's words both in his bedchamber and prior to their leaving the house echo in his ears.

He is not sure which it is that makes him more uncomfortable: the awareness that his eldest daughter is a grown woman who has consummated her marriage and developed a knowledge of unrefined matters, or that upon her suggestion he is encouraging his under-butler and valet to violate law as it suits him, especially given the purpose of his visit to New York in the first place.

Loathe as he should be to admit it, it is likely the former.

He has been afforded certain protections in life, himself, after all, and he is still rueful about the whole footman business.

Man cannot change his nature.

"My Lord?" asks Barrow, surveying him, and Robert coughs.

"How are you finding things?" 

"Very well, thank you, my Lord."

He would, of course, have answered in precisely the same way if he found it all to be lacking and abysmal, but to Robert's eye the servants quarters' were fit enough, and in addition private.

Perhaps he ought to have called him up to his own, for he does have the capability — he should never have thought to visit Bates, back at Downton.

But this is not Downton.

This is the RMS Cameronia, they are traversing the Atlantic Ocean on a moment's notice, and this conversation is going to be unbearably awkward.

"Does his Lordship require anything of me," Barrow prompts, when he has again lost himself for a moment too long.

"It dawned upon me that we had not set your… terms."

"My terms."

"Your working terms."

There is a nigh-imperceptible lift at Barrow's brow, as though this were obvious.

"I'd be satisfied to maintain those I had at Downton when I last valeted you, my Lord," says Barrow evenly. He has his eyes steady on a shirt collar and is stitching with ease, but there is tension in his shoulders.

Barrow is always tense, he's thought, and it is something to which he pays no mind, but Mary had dropped one too many hints that perhaps he ought to — though why she should care, herself, he hasn't the faintest idea.

But she's not been herself, then, has she, since the disaster, and he cannot, despite how he may wish to at times, deny her anything. If he could, it would be Bates in this cabin, and he would never see it for himself, quite rightly.

"I submit, Barrow," begins Robert, tone utterly professional, "that it is not every day one goes to America, and that while your principal purpose as always will be to work, I do see fit to allow you… certain liberties."

"Forgive me, my Lord," says Barrow, "but I don't know what you mean." Though his manner is offhand, Robert notices that he pauses his mending, holds the needle for slightly longer than he otherwise would before once more passing it through the button shank.

He feels that he resists the urge to huff at him rather well, under the circumstances.

"Mary thought it her place to inform me that you may have aspirations, regarding our time across the pond."

Barrow looks up sharply.

"I'm not dissatisfied with my position, your Lordship."

"Of course not, and why should you be?"

He does not miss the way Barrow's lips seem to set more firmly into a line.

"Only I don't… aspire to obtain another. Your Lordship."

"That is not the sort of aspiration she was referring to," he says pointedly. "I imagine that she has your particular interests in mind."

He doesn't waver. "My Lord."

"Barrow, you are a sharp man, I do not wish to insult you by making my meaning more plain."

Sharp, indeed.

Pink in the cheeks, Barrow makes an undignified, strangled noise and begins sorting through the sewing box with renewed vigor.

"My principal purpose is to work, my Lord," he says haltingly, after he's procured a thimble, "as you said."

"And I said also that I see fit to allow you more liberty in New York than would be appropriate at Downton, under the circumstances."

"That is," Barrow begins, and then he swallows. "Very generous, your Lordship."

Robert is certain he must be red in the face, himself. "I shall arrange for you to have, ah, additional time off for… sightseeing. You must acquaint yourself with the city, as I daresay you will find it quite unlike anywhere you have been before."

"My Lord."

"I wish to hear nothing of how you spend this time unless you find yourself in any spot of trouble, Barrow, do you understand me?"

"Yes, My Lord, I understand," replies Barrow quickly.

He's stopped fiddling with his thimble.

"I trust, regardless, that you have enough discretion as to avoid involving yourself in anything knotty, but if it comes to it…"

He'll do what he can, he supposes.

Barrow nods, equable once more.

"You do right with your trust, my Lord." 

"I do hope so," Robert says. It is an understatement. He takes a very deep breath. The matter is over and done with, thank God. "Now, I see you have been provided with the schedule for meals and activities."

"Yes, my Lord."

"I suppose I do not need to tell you that I shall be expecting you in – " he pulls his watch from his waistcoat, regards it " – two hours' time for dinner."

"No, my Lord."

"Very well, Barrow, that will be all," and as he backs toward the door, Barrow stands again, more elegantly this time, as is his fashion.

"Thank you, your Lordship."

They meet eyes.

He supposes he is going to regret following his daughter's advice.

"That will be all," he repeats, and he swiftly takes his leave.

**Author's Note:**

> find me [on tumblr as @combeferre](https://combeferre.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
